The Meaning of Forever
by Nautica Dawn
Summary: A family heirloom is harmless, right? After all, it's just a sword that never goes dull and has a penchant for ruining lives. Nothing bad can happen, right? Sakura's not going insane, she's just making a few changes. /ItaSaku\
1. Prelude: To End A War

_**The Meaning of Forever**_

_Prelude_

_To End A War_

* * *

It was over.

It was the only thing she could think of, and as the warm rain slid down her skin, soaking her hair and kimono beyond recognition, she found herself crying. So many lives had been lost because of her.

She had destroyed so much of what she held precious.

The sword in her hand weighed heavily as her mind began to register the excruciating pain. She had sacrificed everything, she realized. She had given up all hopes of straying from her curse. She had done exactly what that monster wanted her to do.

With the tears from her eyes and the sky sliding down her cheeks, she laughed. The sound, harsh and insane, blended with the wailing of the infant resting on the marble slab behind her. It was her lullaby, her song to end a war. Everything had been lost, but the war was over. She was free. The survivors were free. So what if she had personally destroyed her home, her friends, and her family? It only led her to the one conclusion she already knew.

She was a monster.

* * *

A/N: It was glaring at me. I had to post this, I had to!

'Forever' will be much easier for me to write, but I'll be working on 'Snow' and 'All Fall Down' and 'Serendipity' at the same time. I seem to have an attention disorder when it comes to stories. I can never focus on just one.

Hikari Adams


	2. Chapter One: Under the Banner of Blood

_**The Meaning of Forever**_

_Chapter One_

_Under the Banner of Blood_

* * *

It had been there for as long as she could remember. It just sat there at the bottom of a trunk, buried deep in the dark recesses of her ancient home. The thing was malevolent, she knew, but it lay so serenely that she had trouble believing such a simple object was as powerful as they said it was.

It was something to make the hurricane cry and the mountains shudder. It was something to make the wind fear to tread the sky. It was the thing that made the light fall into oblivion. It was what made demons scream in horror, and the wicked storms of summer followed it like an angel leading the good. It was her banner, the symbol of her clan's curse.

Haruno Sakura sighed, replacing the myriad silks of mesmerizing colors and value before closing the trunk.

_Hanabusa_.

The name was so ridiculously girly that Sakura had to laugh. There was no way some insanely powerful sword that even the greatest of shinobi clans feared was named something as feminine as Hanabusa. It didn't matter that the sword had a whimsical name, however. It was more than just bad news to Sakura. As the storm moved closer to Konoha, and the red dawn continued reaching over the horizon with bloodied fingers, she was forced to recognize the fact that not even she was above her ancestors.

They had fallen to this sword, and so would she.

"Everything burns," her mother had once told her, back in the glory days when Haruno Nozomi still breathed life into her daughter's world, "I watched my mother fall to that thing, and I know that one day I will fall to it. I've already used it once."

She had smiled that day; tears in her emerald eyes, and Sakura could clearly remember the howling rage that had taken the beautiful young woman just two years later. The pain had been excruciating, she knew, and she had been forced to watch as the Sandaime destroyed everything by sealing her mother away.

Her memory was vague, like the scattered feathers of a fallen angel. She had only been an innocent child at the time, struggling to survive in a world that suddenly didn't want the innocent to live. The blade her father had hidden after her mother's tragic end was only the first of many dark clouds to lurk in the sky of her life. There was never any rain, and she feared the day the claret drops decided to fall. The taint was already beginning to seep up from the ground, a vicious cycle that seemed determined to claim her the way it claimed every Haruno woman before her.

The Sandaime had been more than right when he declared that Haruno women lived under a banner of blood.

"I won't fall," she whispered, tracing the elaborate vision of a twisting sea that pranced darkly across the wood of the chest. The words were ones she always repeated when she opened the lid and removed the kimonos.

The kimonos.

She suppressed a shiver, something she did every time she touched them. They were the best kimonos that belonged to her ancestors. They were the kimonos they wore on their last days among humanity. When they fell to the sword's curse, the kimono was taken and put with the others, a memento to let the successor know what lay in store for them.

"Sakura?"

She pushed the trunk back to its hiding place in the wall, replacing the panel to seamlessly hide it in her bedroom, a constant specter in her dreams at night. She turned to leave, casting one leafy glance back at the wall it hid behind, "Coming, Shizune."

The medic downstairs, her old friend and the closest thing to a sister she had ever known, smiled apologetically as she nodded towards the young girl clinging to her hand, "Could you take care of Suzu-chan for me?"

"Not a problem," the pinkette smiled brightly, closing her viridian eyes to hide her ghosts.

"I'm really sorry about the short notice," Shizune gushed, "But Genma's still out of town and I just got a mission. I'm afraid to leave her alone."

Shiranui Suzume stared up at Sakur

a with her dark grey eyes, a thumb tucked safely in her mouth. The younger medic smiled warmly, a real smile this time, "Hello, Suzu-chan. You don't mind staying with old Sakura, now do you?"

The little brunette girl, her hair tone somewhere between her parents', nodded.

Shizune thanked her again, backing out of the house. When her green vest vanished into the dusk of Konoha's twilight, Sakura closed the door. Slowly, she turned back to the little three-year-old in her home, "What would you like to eat, Suzu-chan?"

"Unagi."

The pinkette nodded, "You know, I actually made that before you and your mom showed up. It's all ready in the kitchen."

The little girl lit up, turning and racing towards the little area Sakura cooked and dined in. The rosette medic mentally added that it had also been made before she became distracted by a certain dark memento.

When she vanished, bouncing happily, Sakura leaned against the door, trying to blend in with the cool wood.

Her father was dead, and she was alone in the large house. Naruto and Sai often teased her about its strange appearance. She had never told them about Hanabusa. She never told them that the Haruno house had been built so strangely, so foreign, because it housed a curse as well as a family.

Sakura had sworn to her father, the gentle Haruno Kazuki, that she would never use Hanabusa. She would never succumb to her mother's fate. She would never make the Haruno clan suffer the way it had for generations. She wouldn't become another demon erased from Konoha's stained history.

The Haruno was a matriarchal clan, not unlike the current Inuzuka clan. Haruno had been her mother's name, and her father had adopted it as his own upon their marriage. That was always the way it went. The blade, blacker than absolute midnight and stained with more blood than any shinobi bore on his hands, called Hanabusa was the only heirloom they had. The sword and its curse, along with the kimonos of the lost were all Nozomi had inherited from her mother Asuko, and it was all Sakura had inherited from Nozomi.

She shuddered at the memories of Nozomi's descent. She had trouble remembering the woman herself, back before Hanabusa sank his claws into her for the last time. They were hidden, obscured by the vividly horrific memories of the beautiful redhead and the deeds she had committed with the curved blade, too wide to be a katana, and too heartless to have been forged by mortal hands.

The war with the Akatsuki had taken an unfeasible twist. Pein, the mysterious leader, had found a way to resurrect his dead colleagues. With threats like Hidan, Kakuzu, Sasori, Deidara, and Itachi out roaming the world again, Konoha was beginning to slip on the frontlines. She had heard stories about what Hanabusa was truly capable of, and it was becoming an omnipresent question in her mind.

Should she use the sword and face eternal damnation of the unknown variety?

"Sakura!"

She was jolted out of her reverie. She moved forward, gracefully and silently, just like the wraith she had been trained to be. She found a grinning Suzume seated at the counter Sakura used instead of the proud dining table her father had left her with the house. The little girl's short legs swung back and forth off of the wooden stall, her brown pigtails bouncing slightly.

"What is it, Suzu-chan?" she whispered, taking a seat next to the cheery girl. She picked up one of the sushi rolls, popping the rice roll into her mouth.

"It's good," she squeaked, blushing slightly. She leaned towards the medic, whispering as if it were a clandestine thing to say, "It's much better than Okaa-san's."

The pinkette laughed a little, "Don't let Shizune-nee hear you say that. She takes great pride in her cooking, even if it is worse than hospital food."

Suzume was sent into another round of giggles. It was a sweet sound, Sakura had always thought. Suzume had a voice that was light and airy, like the breeze through wind chimes on a sunny spring day. It was bright like sunshine, but even it couldn't penetrate the cloud of sorrow and despondency that liked to spend its time around the house of Haruno.

"Okaa-san wouldn't mind," the child whispered back, as if she didn't want to be overheard. Sakura found the situation immensely ironic, as she didn't want the inanimate sword spying on her life, "Otou-san tells her she isn't allowed near the kitchen."

"It's for the best, Suzu-chan," the pinkette replied quietly, taking another bite of the smoky and sweet unagi.

"Do I have to go to bed early?"

"You have to go to the Academy tomorrow," she reminded her, "So yes, you have to go to bed early."

"Can I stay in your old room?"

She stiffened, invisible ice running down her spine. She answered, far too quickly for any seasoned shinobi to let it slide, "Of course."

She didn't mention that she didn't want Suzume to share a room with her, as the nightmare-prone girl was known for doing. She had just moved out of her childhood room of pinks and greens, and into what had been her parents' room. The room held Hanabusa in the wall, and Sakura was having trouble sleeping, as the dark shadows beneath her eyes and the crimson lines in the white around her pupils showed.

She didn't want an innocent soul around the corrupt sword. She couldn't face that guilt. She had lay awake too many nights, wondering what her parents had been thinking the first time they explained Hanabusa and his cold connection with the Haruno clan. She had only been four years old, so pure and untouched by the world. Suzume was nearly the same age, but she was not a part of the clan. She couldn't be allowed to learn of the Hanabusa. The sword was too cruel to let its existence be known. The Sandaime had kept its existence from his trusted council, and Sakura herself had gone in and destroyed all records that so much as mentioned in passing a sword with the destructive capabilities of Hanabusa. Tsunade did not know. No one did, save the surviving Haruno.

And Hoshigaki Kisame.

The swordsman, in his days of loyalty to Kiri, had appraised the sword with his master before Nozomi's plunge into the unknown. Sakura was too young to remember what had been said about it, but the shark man knew. He had to know what Hanabusa was and what he could do in the hands of a woman of Haruno descent.

Had it not been for the fact that he was Akatsuki, and therefore the enemy, she would have sought him out and demanded all information concerning her family legacy. As it was, his sensei was dead and he was the only one alive who knew the extent of the blade's power. He was the enemy, and that meant Sakura could not seek him out for personal benefit. Hanabusa was too great, and she would be executed without a second thought, should she consider gleaning information about a Konoha weapon from the enemy.

The elders wouldn't care that he would know the sword's statistics, with or without Sakura's request.

Hanabusa was becoming an obsession. It was something that she had managed to avoid admitting, like a child afraid of a scolding, but she couldn't run anymore. She was the pup trapped in a corner by an angry bear; there was nothing she could do to run away. With her back pressed against a wall, she was forced to admit Hanabusa a place in her Inner's hands. It was the only way she could carry it with her at all times, and yet never touch it in the physical plane.

It kept her from falling in love, much to Sasuke's shock when he returned. She couldn't put someone through the harsh pain she had watched her father suffer in his last years. It kept her from having a social life, much to Ino's disdain. She couldn't bring herself to maintain the ivory bridges she had built with her comrades. Instead, she let Time take them and destroy them with childlike glee.

She wanted to be saved, but she couldn't involve anyone else. She was a Haruno, and just like Asuko and Nozomi before her, she would face Hanabusa alone when the time came.

Sakura was a Haruno, and she lived her life under the banner of blood.

Suzume had gone to bed without any trouble, and Sakura had surprisingly drifted off to sleep. The ocean of the dreamscape had called out, the siren louder than the demon.

"I was wondering if we would ever meet."

The voice was deep, ancient like the mountain ranges. The voice held power that she could only imagine, the tone too far into the depths of the oceans for her to decipher if it was male or female. The voice sent shivers through her slim frame, and she felt incredibly miniscule at the boom that seemed inaudible.

Sakura's eyes opened. She was standing in a familiar place, on the rock amid a raging waterfall, the stone effigies of Uchiha Madara and Senju Hashirama staring at her with cold apathy. She turned softly, the wind trying desperately to pull her over the precipice of water and rock.

Behind her stood a thing. She couldn't figure out what it was. The energy radiating from the creature was malicious, moving over her like a sickness. From the abstract blend of colored fur, the pigment shifting eyes, and the cornucopia of tails, it looked almost like a storybook monster.

"Chimera," she whispered, her eyes lighting on the myriad animal parts that made up the beast before her.

A lion's tail was in place with that of a scorpion, a canine of some kind, and dozens of other animals that she could only dream of the name. The head seemed to be canine, broad like a dog's and sleek like a fox's. It had the unruly mane of a lion. The front paws seemed to be those of a large feline, while the hind legs were those of a hoofed animal.

"So you know what I am?" the creature inquired, almost amused at her knowledge.

She nodded, "I remember reading about chimera in a mythology book when I was studying for a mission a few years back."

"Do you know who I am?"

Its fur twisted, black with slate petals dancing across the fine hairs. The eyes, larger than Hokage Mountain was tall and wider than Chouji at his largest, settled on a royal and cruel indigo, leaning heavily towards violet.

She tried to swallow the freezing lump in her throat, but found that it would not remove itself. Somehow speaking around it, she managed to answer, "Hanabusa. You're Hanabusa."

The sword had followed her into her dream. It wasn't right. Every other time she had dreamed of the blade, it had been in the inanimate form that she stared at on a daily basis. A chimera, and a one so demonic it would shame the Kyuubi no Kitsune, was not what she thought of when it came to Hanabusa.

Her back hurt from the pressure of the beast's power weighing down on her. It was hard to breath, as if the monster's thoughts were crushing her ribcage. She could even feel the familiar pricks at the back of her head, the forerunner to a migraine for Haruno Sakura.

"I am Hanabusa," the thing spoke again, "And you are the heiress, are you not?"

"I will never wield you," she promised.

The beast laughed mercilessly, letting her know that it was aware of the promise's hollow status. She was going to wield that blade, whether she wanted to or not.

"I wonder what you shall be," it mused aloud, "So many have come and gone before you, but you hold the potential to be the first of your kind. I wonder what it will be. Your mother would have been fascinating to see, but she took the coward's way out. She even refused to tell you exactly what my toll of use is."

Morbid curiosity grasped at her mind, "You drive the wielder mad."

It laughed again, the explosion of sound disturbing nothing, as if it wasn't there at all, "Perhaps I do."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You shall have to find out on your own, little one," it, though she was certain he was male, taunted, turning on his mismatched feet walk away, some of the tails brushing against the river's flesh. It left quickly healing wounds on the water's surface, and Sakura shivered as it spoke once more, "I cannot wait to hear you howl as you follow the road of fate beneath your bloody banner."

The sheer sadism that coated the words was enough to jolt her back to the world of the awake. She sat up sharply, her breathing labored, as if the beast's power were still crushing her lungs. Sweat clung to her skin, matting her hair and making her sheets and pajamas feel strange against her skin.

Viridian eyes danced to the wall, as if hoping that the monster would not be there. The panel was still there, and no chimera was present. Sighing, she slipped out of bed, trying not to shiver as the night air brushed lazily against her damp skin. She moved to the window, prying it open silently.

The tiles of her roof were painfully sharp and agonizingly cold against her bare feet, but still she moved soundlessly until she was perched at the zenith of the roof. The moon was just a sliver in the sky, a slice of silver against the star-studded velvet.

She closed her eyes and sat there, letting the wind capture her and hold her in place. It was a peaceful night, a gentle lullaby that she could sleep to. She would have, but she just couldn't shake the feeling of Hanabusa sitting beside her, a tail wrapped around her throat.

* * *

A/N: The prelude was short, so here's a nice twisted opening chapter for you.

_All monster exterminators, apply via the little purple box._

_Hikari Adams_


	3. Chapter Two: Stronger

_**The Meaning of Forever**_

_Chapter Two_

_Stronger_

* * *

"Sakura, are you alright?"

The pinkette smiled at the worried Shizune, "I'm fine. I've just had a little trouble sleeping lately."

"Was Suzume-chan too much trouble?"

"Not at all, I've just been a little stressed."

It wasn't a lie, and the older medic was unable to push the subject further. Leafy eyes watched as the frazzled woman went back to her paperwork.

Hanabusa had become a constant sight in her dreams. If she were near a mirror, she'd see his horrific visage staring back at her. Even awake, her reflection was that of the chimera. To prove to herself that it wasn't a dream, her spring eyes wandered to the window, finding the grinning, maniacally she added, beast staring back at her.

She shivered and went back to her own paperwork.

"Sakura," Shizune called, "What was your mother's name?"

The rosette kunoichi stiffened, the ice gripping at her chest and Hanabusa tightened his invisible noose around her neck. She managed to say, her voice both random and constant, like a rain shower, "Nozomi. Haruno Nozomi."

Confusion marred Shizune's appearance, "I've got a report here that says she's a patient."

"Coma," Sakura covered, dropping her own work and snatching the report from her friend's hands, "I'll take care of it."

"Do you want me to send Tsunade-sama down?"

The younger kunoichi shook her head, "It's already been deemed a hopeless case. I've checked her out myself. I'll just go down and see what's going on."

Shizune reluctantly nodded, allowing Sakura to travel to her mother's location.

The report said it was in one of the secure rooms of the hospital. Sakura knew that it was in the bowels of Konohagakure.

The room Sarutobi had sectioned off for Haruno Nozomi's final resting place was somewhere near Ichiraku. Sakura wasn't sure, and as she was nearly three hundred feet underground, it was hard for her to find out. Sakura had slipped through the entrance, in the floor of the archive room, the most secure room in the city, with practiced ease. When the trapdoor closed over her head, the cold sank into her bones, and she swore she could hear Hanabusa laughing in her ear.

The trek was long, cold, and by the time she got to the chamber, she would have sworn the moisture in the air had sunk into her bones. The door loomed before her soon enough, however. The iron lock in the center, accompanied by locks running around all four sides of the ferrous door. Meticulously, she undid each of the side locks with a brass key she had pulled from around her neck. The last lock, the glaring beast in the center, moved against the rust as she undid it. The door itself screamed as she pushed it open, revealing the dull green light from inside.

Haruno Nozomi was a beautiful woman. When Sakura was a little girl, and the Sandaime had brought her to the chamber, she had dreamed of looking like her mother. Nozomi had a heart shaped face, one that was relaxed as her emerald eyes were closed. Her hair, long and deep burgundy, floated around her in the stone, as if she were underwater. Her kimono, a nostalgically familiar design of flowing white barracan and dancing zinnober leaves. Her hands were long and spidery, the fingers barely showing above her sleeves as her arms crossed over her chest. Silk slippers, smaragdine like the leaves, shyly showed themselves from below the hem of the garment.

She must have been breathtaking, awake and full of life. Instead, all Sakura could recall was the sleeping woman sealed inside a chlorochrous gem beneath Konohagakure.

"Hello, Okaa-san," she greeted, her snowy medic's coat swirling in the gloom as she closed the door behind her, "How have you been?"

Nozomi didn't answer, nor would she, but her daughter felt the need to talk. It was slightly disturbing, Sakura found, like sitting in the Uchiha compound at midnight with only the clan's ghosts for company, to be in the cellar with a madwoman inside a stone.

Sakura nodded, checking Nozomi's seal for any fraying, "I've been okay. Hanabusa is waking up. I've been having nightmares. In fact, I can feel him around my neck right now, just waiting to choke the life out of me."

The seal was barely damaged, through Time's minor games, and Sakura added a minute amount of chakra to reverse the damage. The stone, suddenly amorphous as it was repaired, caused Nozomi to awaken ever so slightly. Sakura wasn't alarmed. Her mother always moved, as if waking in the morning from a night's sound sleep. The stone reset, and one of her mother's arms had fallen from her chest, the sleeve pushed up to the elbow where it had caught on her other hand.

With her work done, Sakura stepped back to examine her mother, whispering to the forgotten woman, "Okaa-san, what happened to you? You were so young, and you chose this. Is Hanabusa really that bad?"

Something caught her attention as she turned away. The hand that had been revealed in the shift was discolored. Sakura's eyes narrowed, her shoes clicking on the damp stone floor when she stepped forward. Her small hand pressed against the lukewarm stone, her breath fanning across it. She was as close to her mother's prison as she possibly could be, and the arm was perfectly clear.

There were small points in her skin, growing albicant on her forearm. Nozomi was fair-skinned, like all Haruno. Her alabaster flesh was nothing for Sakura to be worried about, but the arm was brighter than the rosy flesh around it. Her fingernails were melichrous, curving away from her fingers. A quick glance to the hand still held over the frozen heart showed that Nozomi's other hand had clear nails, not gold like the other hand's.

"Okaa-san, you're changing colors," she joked, "Is this the seal's doing?"

Sarutobi had always been careful when speaking to the young Haruno. He had never divulged the specifics of the seal. The medic, in her early days of working with Tsunade, had searched the archives for information. As she had found, the old man had taken the secrets of her mother's imprisonment with him to the grave.

"Goodbye, Okaa-san," she whispered tearfully, the salty liquid stinging her dry eyes as she turned away from the stone. Her hand trailed along the lukewarm surface, and when it broke away, something tugged at her heart.

Was she going to end up like this? Would Sakura join her mother in a matching green stone, deep below the streets of Konohagakure no Sato? Would she end up with a discolored arm, and a penchant for attacking her friends when she awoke?

Sakura closed her eyes bitterly, remembering with far too much clarity the incident that had prompted the somewhat rash preemptive decision her mother had made.

The pinkette had only been four when it happened. No child should have been exposed to such a sight, she decided in later years. She had had to watch her mother slip into madness, and ultimately attack her closest childhood friend. The incident had left Nozomi a pile of tears, Sakura in a state of shock, and it had permanently destroyed the friendship of Haruno Nozomi and Inuzuka Tsume.

When the locks were set again and the brass key was hidden safely, Haruno Sakura returned to the sunlit room.

"I wasn't aware there was a hospital entrance there."

She froze, her hands pressed painfully against the wooden floor of the room. She looked up, smiling shakily, "Hello, Tsunade-shishou."

The blonde frowned, her amber eyes ambivalent, "Mind telling me why you were down there?"

"Well," she shot a venomous look at the ANBU charged with guarding the entrance, pleased when the hawk looked away bashfully, "I needed to check the records."

"There aren't any down there. All that is down there is a giant door that I can't unlock."  
A lump began to form in Sakura's throat. Tsunade had been down that damp corridor, and she had seen the door to Nozomi's chamber.

When?

Sakura was with her almost all the time, and Shizune had never mentioned anything. Not only that, but if there was a structure in the city that the buxom blonde didn't remember, she always questioned the pinkette about it. She had never asked about the underground room that could be reached through the archive room.

"Sakura," Tsunade spoke quietly, kneeling down to the younger kunoichi's level, "Do you know what's down there? When I asked about you five minutes ago, Shizune said you went to check on your mother. She said that you told her your mother was in a coma."

"She is," the young woman replied quickly.

Apparently her answer was a little too quick, because the elder's rufous eyes were disbelieving, "Why is she down there?"

"Who says she is?"

Tsunade sighed, "I know she is, Sakura. The ANBU told me you come here about once every three months, always visiting that room. According to your friends, these incidents coincide with your announcement to visit your coma-struck mother. Now, either you can tell me what's going on, or I can subpoena you and demand all information about your mother," a strange look came across the blonde's face, "Come to think of it, I don't even know her name. Or your father's for that matter."

Sakura faked a bright smile for the woman, "My father was Haruno Kazuki. Surely you remember him. He was in the Yondaime's generation. Long white hair and sky blue eyes, and he wore glasses. He was rather hard to miss in a crowd. He always knew how to make people laugh, and he was a wonderful musician. Always wanted to be a musician instead of a shinobi."

"And your mother?"

"Went into a coma when I was a small child. I really don't know anything about her."

Tsunade sighed and grabbed the younger woman by the back of her shirt, hauling her away from the trapdoor. She turned to the ANBU, ordering, "Close and lock that door."

Sakura glared at the hawk as he agreed to the order, hissing, "Traitor!"  
He shrugged in apology, the mask watching as the Hokage carried the irate kunoichi away.

* * *

Sakura was happy when Tsunade deposited her in a chair.

She wasn't happy to find herself facing a desk in front of a suspicious Hokage.

"Let's try this again," the blonde began, "Who was your mother and what connection does she have to that room?"

"It really doesn't matter," she excused, standing to leave. When her body refused to obey, and she saw the smirking blonde, she realized what had happened, "You used _that _on me? Of all the jutsu you could have used to ensure my place in this chair, you had to disrupt my nerves so I can't move?"

Tsunade shrugged, "Do mind telling me the truth now? Last time Konoha had a hidden room that only one shinobi knew about, it was Orochimaru and he was doing illegal testing in the room. How do I know you're not like him?"

Like him? Mad, insane, and completely warped?

Sakura suppressed a shudder as the tail around her neck twitched and Hanabusa's hollow laugh sounded quietly in her mind.

She _was_ like him. She was mad, or at least headed there. Insane…she had a split personality. Completely warped? She let her thoughts dwell on the blade that had pushed her mother to complete insanity, the same blade that had instilled fear in a young swordsman-in-training years and years ago. She had let herself be tempted to use said blade, and seal her fate as one of the many shinobi to lose their mind. She was like Orochimaru, and it was beyond disturbing.

_Not him_, Hanabusa whispered, _you're not like that. You're too smart for that_.

Too smart, he said. Too smart made her like Akasuna no Sasori, or that Deidara guy, or even Uchiha Itachi. Being too smart was not something that she liked, because being too smart meant she could relate to the Uchiha clan killer, the mad bomber, and the man who liked to turn corpses into puppets.

She had to differentiate for Tsunade. She was insane, yes, but she wasn't criminally insane. Not yet, anyway.

"Haruno Nozomi," she answered.

Russet eyes showed something akin to pity, "That's a pretty name. I suspect she was a beautiful woman too. I vaguely remember Jiraiya describing a boy matching your father's description. He said something about the boy being an absolute heartbreaker, and not someone easily tamed. Your mother must have been something else to get him to commit."

"She was beautiful," Sakura whispered, the tears welling up as her mind drifted to the precious memories she had of the woman, back before Hanabusa locked her into damnation, "She was loving, and gentle, but she was so intelligent. She didn't have to raise her voice or get angry to shame my father into something. All she had to do was wrap that melodic voice of hers around the right words, and he melted for her. She could do that to anyone."

"What did she look like?"

Sakura answered by removing a photograph from her weapon's pouch. It was creased and slightly torn at the edges. It was discolored around the edges as well, a testament to how many missions the kunoichi had taken in soggy locations. Her small hands unfolded it, smoothing it out against the desk as she pushed it towards the woman.

Tsunade gasped a little at the familiar picture.

Green eyes closed as she brought the image up in her mind. The photograph had been taken before Nozomi was forced to use Hanabusa, when Sakura was still an infant. In it, she was dressed in a pristine white kimono, matching her radiant mother. Nozomi's hair was swept up, the aubergine tresses perfectly coifed. Sakura's own little tuft of pink hair was brushed down against her skin. She was in her mother's arms, and the woman sat on a chair before a cherry tree in full bloom. Behind the chair, glowing with one hand on his wife's shoulder was Haruno Kazuki, his blue eyes alive behind his glasses and his white hair slightly windblown. His haori and hakama were blue and white, matching his wife and child.

Sakura couldn't remember the day, she had been too young, but she remembered that photograph. It was one of the few images she had of her mother with that brilliant force of life shining in her emerald eyes.

"She's beautiful," the Hokage admitted, "What happened?"

Sakura shifted nervously, "I don't really remember. You'd have to ask Tsume-san. She's the only one who really remembers."

"Try to explain it to me," she pushed the picture back to its owner.

The pinkette folded it up again, slipping it back into her pouch, "She went mad."

Tsunade nodded, "Why?"

Sakura swore inside her head. She cringed a little as Hanabusa's laughter increased, the sound sending chills down her spine.

Hanabusa. She couldn't tell Tsunade about the blade, because she would have to tell the elders and the elders would demand that Sakura use the sword against the Akatsuki. They wouldn't care what it did in the past, or what it might do in the future. All they would care about was the fact that they had _power_ at their disposal. They would have access to power that even the mighty Uchiha clan couldn't have dreamed of. Hanabusa could give them the fear and respect of the world, all at the cost of one kunoichi.

But that wasn't true.

Sakura's logical side pointed out that if Nozomi had injured Tsume, then it was safe to say that Sakura would injure those closest to her. Tsunade, Naruto, Sasuke, and so many others would be at risk. If she fell to Hanabusa's complete influence, she could kill any of Konoha's most prized fighters.

On the other hand, if she lied, there were two possibilities. One was that Tsunade wouldn't believe her, and she would be handed over to Mitarashi Anko or Morino Ibiki until she confessed to what she knew. The other was that the elders would demand Sakura's removal from the active duty list. That was, in the long run, the safer choice. If Sakura wasn't on the battlefield, then she wouldn't be tempted to use Hanabusa.

But that was wrong.

If Sakura wasn't on the battlefield, then she knew that the temptation to use the blade would be stronger. The siren's call to power, the power to save those from the bleeding clouds, would be too strong. Sakura was like a newborn kitten. She was too weak to face that pull. Hanabusa would pull her under, drowning her with the power until she was driven to insanity, to the breaking point when the sky stopped crying and began laughing instead.

So she did the only thing she could do, and lied with her eyes locked on Tsunade's.

"Insanity runs in my family," Sakura deadpanned, "My mother succumbed to it and had to be put in a justu-induced coma until we could find a way to bring her back. So far, there has been no success."

The blonde leader stiffened slightly at the false admission, but she didn't seem to see the glaring lie Sakura had delivered, "What is the chance that you will fall to this?"

Sakura smiled ruefully, feeling another tail wrap around her neck in an invisible necklace of death, "There is roughly a one hundred percent chance that I will fall to insanity as well."

"Understood," Tsunade nodded, her russet gemstone eyes refusing to look at her apprentice, "You're free to go. I need to speak with someone."

The Rookie Nine alum stood solemnly, turning and leaving the office without a word. As she slipped through the door, the stagnant wind moved and brought her the words her mentor uttered to Shizune when she entered from a different door.

"Get Inuzuka Tsume-san here. I also need to meet with the elders as soon as possible."

Sakura was gone from the tower before anyone could notice her eavesdropping.

* * *

"You just had to interfere!" Sakura hissed.

She had removed the panel as soon as she got home, leaving the doors of her home open for any curious eye to wander through. The trunk had been pulled to the side of her bed, and she had pulled the breathtaking kimonos from it in an angered frenzy, the kunoichi not caring for the condition of the rich fabrics. They were strewn about her otherwise pristine room, lying in wrinkled heaps of discarded mementos.

She finally pulled the last one, a deep sapphire of pearly cranes trying to free themselves from their silken chains, and tossed it onto her desk at the other side of the room. Hanabusa was left alone in the trunk, the plumbeous sheath gleaming demonically innocent in the dim light of the bedroom.

She choked back a sob, gripping the sides of the open trunk painfully and letting her tears fall on the wicked sword, "You just had to interfere. If you had just stayed away from me, if you had just left me alone, then none of this would be happening!"

The sword didn't answer, and she was tempted to grab him from his crypt to demand a reply of some kind. She didn't, though, knowing that that was what the sadist was hoping for. If she picked up the blade, decided to cradle it in her hands like the fallen angel she was that would hold an infant monster, then she would be overcome by the temptation to use it. The ocean of power would sweep over her, the lonely leaf lost at sea, and the current would take her under. The crushing waves to tear her to pieces, until there was nothing recognizable left behind.

"Sakura?"

She hiccupped a little, turning to see a tentative winter lilac meeting her gaze. Her voice was weak and broken, like an abused and ancient clock as she greeted, "Hey."

Hyuuga Hinata stepped lightly into the room, closing the door behind her. She cast a curious glance around the room, taking note of the mayhem caused by Sakura's expulsion of the kimonos from the trunk. The indigette kunoichi took a seat next to the pinkette, asking in her soothing cantative voice, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she snapped, defensive and rolling with anger when she saw, yes _saw_, Hanabusa skip over to Hinata's shoulder, leaving three of his myriad tails in the noose around his soon-to-be master's neck.

Hinata's brumel eyes lighted upon the alluring sword at the bottom of the trunk, "What's that?"

Sakura fought her emotions as another sob tried to escape her. She didn't want to drag Hinata, or anyone else, into her mess, but it was becoming impossible. She was drowning, and Hanabusa was gleefully pulling her deeper with every passing second. Each breath was becoming harder to take, the air refusing to flow. She needed help.

"Hanabusa," she answered. She reached over to pull a kimono off her pillow, reveling silently in the shimmering silk of maple browns and oranges. The garment lay helplessly in her lap, her tiny hands caressing the fabric gently, like she was afraid it would shatter if she so much as breathed on it.

"That's a beautiful kimono," Hinata remarked.

The medic nodded, "It was my grandmother's. All of these kimonos belonged to my ancestors. Every single one belongs to a Haruno woman from days long gone."

"There are so many."

"Mmhmm," she responded, "It's a tradition in our family. When a Haruno woman begins to fall to the family curse, she has two identical kimonos made. One she puts in the trunk, and the other she wears in her final days among humanity."

"That's depressing," the Hyuuga heiress whispered, her lilac eyes never leaving the fabric in her friend's hands.

"Hinata?"

"Yes, Sakura?"

The pinkette looked up, bringing Hinata's gaze to meet her virid eyes, "You wanted to be a seamstress, didn't you?"

She was slow in responding, but eventually the indigette kunoichi nodded, "Yes."

"Good," Sakura managed a shaky smile, her eyes displaying more fear than anything, "Because it's time to make my kimonos."

* * *

Glossary:

barracan: silk

zinnober: green

smaragdine: green

chlorochrous: green

albicant: white

melichrous: gold

I'm going to try and add a glossary for all archaic words I use in chapters. If I miss one, just leave a note in a review and I'll reply with the meaning.

Thank you, Banira, for checking this for mistakes. Also, a huge thank you goes to all of the reviewers. I've had a lot of fun writing this, and it is wonderful to hear what readers think about it.

_Hinata is going to need help choosing a fabric for the kimonos. Anyone with color suggestions should give their suggestions by using the little purple button at the bottom of the screen._

_Hikari Adams_


	4. Chapter Three: Still Doll

_**The Meaning of Forever**_

_Chapter Three_

_Still Doll_

* * *

She shouldn't have been there. She was supposed to be at home, under Hinata's watchful eye. Instead, she had snuck out, at Hanabusa's suggestion, to creep into the administrative building. Tsunade's office was next to a small supplies closet, and there was a vent between the two. Sakura could sit comfortably in the dark and see and hear everything in her mentor's office. As she sat, curled up and leaning painfully against the metal vent, her viridian eyes watched her mentor and her mother's old friend.

Inuzuka Tsume hadn't changed much in the thirteen years since Sakura had last seen her. Her hair was still cropped and muddy brown, flying wildly against her angular features. There had always been something feral about Tsume, something that had been softened in her children. Her eyes, dark and wild, were focused on Tsunade, the blonde seemingly struggling for words.

"What do you know about the Haruno family?"

The question was quick, run together, and a bit of a mess. Tsunade's fear of the answer was betrayed in the frazzled question.

The wild woman stiffened, the great behemoth of a dog beside her lifting his great head, a growl building at the back of both throats, "Only that they're unstable."

"Tsume-san, please try to be objective."

"Understood, Hokage-sama."

Tsunade nodded, her blonde hair brushing against her coat, "What do you remember of Haruno Asuko?"

"Not much," she replied, "Nozomi-chan and I were only little kids when she died."

"Died? She wasn't locked up?"

Sakura flinched at Tsunade's assumption. Tsume glowered at the comment, surely remembering her own lost friend.

"No. Asuko-san died," she explained, "It was on a mission. Nozomi-chan came to live with my family after that. All I remember is Nozomi being given a sword and a trunk. She buried the sword beneath the kimonos in the trunk, and they were beautiful kimonos. At the funeral, she didn't cry. I thought that was strange, but she said she had been expecting it."

"Do you remember the cause of death?"

Tsume shook her head, "Asuko-san was one of Konoha's greatest kunoichi. Her body was destroyed in the field by her only remaining teammate, the Uchiha woman who returned the blade. Nozomi-chan didn't seem bothered by the lack of a body, so I never thought about it. Only the medics knew how she died. Nozomi-chan never asked, and it never crossed my mind to ask."

"Nozomi-san," the Hokage began tentatively, "What was she like when she was Kiba-kun's age?"

The notoriously untamed woman frowned, the expression clear to the eavesdropper, "She was different. She was torn, I do remember that."

"Over what?"

Sakura picked up the urgency in her mentor's voice. She also knew what Tsume was referring to, and that the hope of learning more about her mother's insanity was a lost cause at this point in the conversation.

"Between Yukimura Kazuki and Uchiha Takeshi."

Tsunade sighed heavily, a manicured hand coming up to massage her temple, "Why is there always an Uchiha involved?"

"I don't know," Tsume chuckled darkly, "But I do remember that Takeshi-san and Kazuki-kun were nearly killed on a mission. Nozomi-chan was there, and she had that sword. She used some sort of strange attack with it to save Kazuki-kun. She didn't get to Takeshi-san in time, and that was where her descent began. She blamed herself for his death, and Kazuki-kun had to pick up the pieces."

"Wasn't he upset at being her second choice?"

The canine woman shook her head, "No. I think he was just happy to have her. Kazuki-kun genuinely loved her, even though she was terrible to him in our youth. I think, when Nozomi-chan began to slip, she began to love him too. He was there to support her, and he helped bring her back from that. We all thought she would be okay. By the time Sakura-chan was born, Nozomi-chan was back to normal."

"What happened to send her back to that?" the blonde pushed, her curiosity almost tangible.

Tsume bit her lip, her dark eyes swirling with ambivalence, "The Uchiha clan. It was common knowledge that they were planning a coup d'état. The woman from the mission Asuko-san died on remembered that sword, and mentioned its power to the clan elders. Apparently they hoped to woo the Haruno clan onto their side. Nozomi-chan had never really gotten over Takeshi-san, and when the Uchiha approached her, she was deeply offended. I was there when it happened. Kiba and Sakura-chan had a play date that day. Kazuki-kun was out on a mission, and when the Uchiha showed up at the Haruno house, Nozomi had no way of getting rid of them."

"Do you remember what happened?"

"Yes. Sakura-chan was six at the time, and she obviously knew what that sword was. She ran for cover and pulled Kiba with her when Nozomi-chan drew it out of its sheath. Nozomi-chan did something with it. To this day I'm not sure of the attack. All I really know is that one second the Uchiha were standing at the door, and the next they were scattered in the street, all unconscious and some of them obviously dead. Nozomi-chan seemed to be struggling with something. She was gripping her left arm, almost as if it were causing her pain. I tried to help her, but when I approached, she screamed and lashed out with her left arm."

Tsunade shifted in her seat, and in the gloom of the closet, Sakura stiffened, her heart rate accelerating as Tsume described the one memory she had worked to forget. She could easily recall the fear Hanabusa had inspired in her on that day. Kiba had never really gotten over her strange behavior, and the two friends had fallen apart after that incident. Hana, Sakura's normal babysitter, had refused to take any more jobs from the family, and Kazuki had had to find a civilian replacement. She also remembered, quite clearly, the sorrowful expression of Yuuhi Kurenai, her temporary guardian following Nozomi's collapse, as the red-eyed woman took Sakura from her home.

"What did she do?" Tsunade's question was soft, almost innocent in its inquisitiveness.

Tsume responded by shifting out of her green vest and pulling the collar of her dark shirt down over her shoulder. The marks, raised and silver against the woman's tanned skin were accusing as Sakura watched in silence with her specter at her side. They were graceful brush marks, argent and gently curving over the collarbone and disappearing beneath the fabric on either side of the revealed flesh.

"She couldn't recognize friend or foe," the wild woman grimaced, righting her clothing, "She was beyond dangerous, and I had to call the Hokage in. Sakura-chan was removed from her home until Kazuki-kun returned. To be completely honest, I was rather surprised Nozomi-chan had the audacity to hide her weakening mental state for so long."

"That's a little harsh, don't you think?"

Tsume scoffed, "She put her own daughter at risk because she chose to hide that. What would have happened if it had been Sakura-chan she had struck instead of me? Nozomi-chan's actions were disgraceful, and it's good thing she was locked up. Risks like her shouldn't be allowed to run free."

Tsunade shifted in her seat, "She never betrayed the village, Inuzuka-san."

"No, but she makes the Akatsuki look like a bunch of newborn pups."

* * *

Haruno Sakura.

Once, approximately three hours ago, it was the name of Konohagakure no Sato's prized kunoichi. As the young woman capable of surpassing her mentor, the sannin-turned-Hokage, Tsunade, she had been treated as royalty by many of the other nations. Even Konoha treated her exceptionally well for a kunoichi.

As of three hours ago, however, there was no Leaf kunoichi by that name. There was no young woman with cotton candy hair and eyes to shame spring's new leaves who could destroy a mountain with a flick of her wrist. There was no medic capable of otherwise impossible medical feats. Haruno Sakura did not exist in the shinobi world.

She lay on her bed; the sheets tangled around her bare legs like the noose Hanabusa's tail made around her neck. Her shorts, the color of absolute midnight, had slid up, but for once she didn't care about being modest. Her sanguineous tank, crimson like the blood for which the color was named, had bunched over the flat plane of her abdomen, revealing a wide strip of muscled flesh, reminiscent of the pure lily's petals that represented the innocent. Her pink hair was splayed across her pillow, a tangled spider's web left neglected and forgotten as it grew from the still doll on the bed. Her eyes, the viridian gems once bursting with the energy of awakening trees, were frozen forevermore it seemed. Her tiny hands, still and unmoving, were curled loosely into the sheets in front of her unseeing gaze.

Once, she was Haruno Sakura. For the past three hours, she didn't know who the broken doll staring at her from the vanity mirror was.

Hanabusa could be felt at her back, her invisible tormentor curled up against her back like a pet and offering nothing but ice to comfort her. His tails were spread around him, she thought, with four forming the fatal necklace she wore. The sword itself was lying atop the open trunk, wrapped in her great-grandmother's kimono of glaucous silk and jessamy tendrils meant to be sunshine.

It was such a disgustingly cheerful design, considering what it was.

Hinata had moved the blade as its pinkette owner refused to touch it. She had only used the kimono as a safety when her broken friend went into near hysterics over the idea of someone touching Hanabusa with their bare hands. She had placed it there, she claimed, hoping that the empty porcelain doll would realize that it was harmless.

Hinata couldn't see him.

Though, Hanabi could.

The younger Hyuuga sister was at the home, since the elder refused to leave the former kunoichi alone. The lavender-eyed girl hadn't entered the cursed room. Instead, she had stood at the doorway, something similar to fear bringing a warped life to her otherwise blank eyes.

She could see Hanabusa, and she was terrified of him. She was scared of his reluctant master as a result, and had stubbornly remained in the gloomy living room since witnessing the monster in the former medic's shadow.

_You knew this would happen._

She tried to block out his voice, deep and far too silky for one so malevolent, but it was the only thing saving her from the memories. Hanabusa's occasional comments of the cruel arctic were the only form of safety she had against the recollections of that day.

He fell silent when he realized it.

Tsunade hadn't betrayed any emotion when she dourly informed the already blank girl that she could either retire early or be fired. The city elders had been standing behind her in their timelessly rotten glory. In fact, she was certain the trio of human monsters were pleased that the blonde Hokage was being injured in such a way.

Her prized medic was going insane. She was a liability on the field. She needed to be removed before someone got hurt. Team Kakashi could function without her; they always had in the past. Besides, this way Tsunade could take on a new apprentice. Perhaps she would be someone brighter, someone more obedient.

Someone like Yamanaka Ino.

She had seen that comment coming from the harsh north years ago. Ino was obedient. The elders favored her because Inoichi was one of their blind pawns. She would do whatever they would tell her to, and through her they could control the russet-eyed leader.

She took the coward's way out and retired early. Naruto, as the up and coming Rokudaime, didn't need to be involved, as he invariably would be if she had been fired instead. Sasuke just didn't need to be involved, as the Uchiha survivor had enough of his own problems to deal with. Sai was already in danger after his falling out with Danzo four years ago, so he didn't need the added trouble with the vindictive elder. Kakashi still had trouble redeeming the Hatake name after his father's suicide and Sasuke's defection, so that meant he couldn't face another governmental problem involving a former student. Yamato, or Tenzou, still faced the stigma of being Orochimaru's test subject, so he didn't need to add an insane student to his résumé.

She was insane. She would be the first to admit it. In the beginning, she had believed Hanabusa only caused madness after he was bonded to his master. Now she realized that he had already chosen her, and he had already driven her over the edge with the sheer anticipation of lunacy. She had expected another six months or so before Hanabusa fully claimed her, but the blade managed to achieve it in just one fortnight. Half of that time had been taken by Tsunade's deliberations with the elders, but the chimera had been at his worst during those agonizing days.

She went mad thinking about him, and the questions began.

Did Nozomi go through this, or did she fall after using Hanabusa? Did the regal Asuko go through the same horrors? Was this pain the real cause behind Nozomi's decision? Did either woman ever consider ending it all? Were they afraid of their closest friends, just as she was? Had they gone through the terror, pushing them towards those that they had never really associated with beforehand? Were they slowly abandoned by all that they held dear, just as the pinkette's beloveds slipped through her hands like sand in an hourglass?

She turned to bury her face in her sheets, ignoring Hinata's light footsteps as she entered the room. The smell of dango drifted over to her, but she couldn't find it in herself to eat. Her body was hungry, yes, ravenous even, but she herself could not fathom the idea of touching food. She was too afraid it would turn to ash in her mouth. She was too afraid of everything turning to ash around her.

"Are you ever going to get up?"

She didn't answer. She didn't need to. Hinata knew she wasn't going to get up. She couldn't see Hanabusa, but the pinkette was certain the wintry kunoichi could learn the reason why from the mighty and frightened Hanabi.

She was pinned down by the weight of a chimera's threat.

"I brought you food," she explained, moving to set the container down on the bedside table, "I thought you might get hungry, and since you don't have a lot to eat downstairs, I went and picked something up."

Still, the pinkette remained quiet. The dango smelled delicious, but she was vapid and couldn't bring herself to move. She had no willpower; the famed spirit of fire had left her.

"I also picked up some fabric I thought you might like," Hinata's soft words caught the vacuous young woman's attention. Emerald eyes moved to watched the indigette at the foot of the bed, "I really like this one, but with your pink hair it's probably not a good idea."

It was a rich silk of terra cotta that was a beautiful color, but the listless woman had to agree with her friend's observation.

"I found this one at the back of the storage room," she said, holding up the amaranthine barracan, "It was used to make my mother's clothing, so I guess I can understand why the other Hyuuga ignored it. It's such a rich fabric."

The girl looked away, not wanting to speak.

Hinata sighed, picking up a third fabric, "This was the last one. The Hyuuga don't really like green, so I thought this might be good for you. Your hair matches greens and other cool colors, and it would bring out your eyes. Your skin tone is odd though, and you're one of the few who can look really good in dark colors."

She sat up when her friend revealed the silk. One slender hand pulled it away from the wintry woman's hands, and she marveled at the way the light danced gracefully off of the corbeau textile. It was a plush color, a graceful blackish green. She ran a hand over the smooth fabric, silently imagining the myriad designs that could be put on such a stunning landscape.

Hinata smiled, glad to see her friend looking a little more alive, "I thought you might like that one. I can't decide between the threads, though," she held up two spools, each one shining majestically, "Gold or silver?"

Leafy eyes flickered between the two until one pale hand reached out and removed the gold from the sunny winter hold. She held it against the forest fabric, watching the contrast with a childlike fascination.

The indigette beside her giggled, "So what design do you want?"

She didn't respond.

"Oh, I know!" Hinata clapped her hands, excited at the prospect of achieving her dreams of being a tailor, "I'll surprise you, but I think you'll like it. I hope you don't mind putting up with Hanabi-chan for a little longer."

"Onee-san."

The solemn voice from the doorway caught each woman's attention. Hinata turned to speak with her sister as the pinkette remained focused on the materials that would make her kimonos. It wasn't until Hinata removed them from her grasp that she realized her friend was leaving.

Hanabi was standing at the door, alone, when she turned to find her friend.

"What is that thing?" she asked, lavender eyes focused on the chimera curled up beside the broken doll.

In response, she pointed to the sword lying atop the kimonos of the damned. Hanabi seemed to understand, and she inquired if it was harmful.

"Only to me," she finally spoke, smiling ruefully.

The brunette nodded, moving forward to take her sister's seat on the bed, "What will you do now?"

"Try to live."

"Will that be possible?"

"No," she replied.

Hanabi nodded, "You don't know who you are anymore, do you?"

Another rueful smile twisted her features, "Not a clue."

"You're Sakura," the younger woman asserted, "You might not be a kunoichi anymore, but you're still you."

She shook her head, "No, I'm not."

"And why is that?"

She was silent for a moment until she replied quietly, "I became a kunoichi after watching my mother slowly lose her mind. She hurt her closest friend, and I swore then and there that I would never let anyone else be hurt like that. My mother fell apart after that. I didn't like watching her suffer, knowing that there was nothing I could do to help her. I became a kunoichi to help people. That was my only reason. That was what prompted me to become a medic. If I can't do that, then what purpose do I have to live for?"

"My mother died when I was born," Hanabi replied, "So I don't know what that's like. As a Hyuuga, I knew that I would always be a kunoichi. I really don't know how to respond to that. I have no reason for being what I am."

"That must be nice."

She shook her head, "Not really. Sometimes I wish I had a reason for doing what I do."

The pinkette didn't respond. She had no reason to be alive, and Hanabusa wasn't going to make civilian life easy on her. He would drive her over the edge; force her to repeat her mother's mistakes. The only question was the identity of her victim.

She was a still doll, empty save the ticking time bomb buried deep inside.

* * *

A/N: Here it is, the colors of Sakura's kimono! There were two or three people (I'm too lazy to look it up) who suggested green and gold, so that was what I went with.

Thank you: **Banira, Quiet Moon, Sage347, Shay-sama, Sara 'Devilchu', Jester08, Blackscarlet47, Ita-ta, SpeedDemon315, talapadme, 10tealeaf, NorthernLights25, BlackButterfly-RedRose, ch1b1-ch4n, Regin, Kin-Kin, Hiei's Cute Girl, xxpatixx, Kinkatia, **anon., **xXFallenSakuraXx, TeenageCrisis, **and **Pandastacia.**

_ Notice: Hanabusa is breaking Konoha's leash laws. Wait! Konoha has leash laws?! _

_Hikari Adams_


	5. Chapter Four: Invisible Monsters

**_Meaning of Forever_**

_Chapter Four_

_Invisible Monsters_

_

* * *

  
_

Konoha was always a bustling city, more so on Saturday mornings when the farmer's market was open near the Academy. It was such a cheerful place, one of smiles and pleasantries. It was where light existed in its purest form.

But where there is light, there is shadow.

She leaned against the alley wall of a building, her body cast in shadows as viridian eyes watched the market-goers. Occasionally a child would move close to where she stood, but they always ran away as if pursued by some invisible monster.

Well, she thought, they were, but they couldn't see Hanabusa so there was no way they could know that. As far as she knew, only Hyuuga Hanabi would be able to see the indigo chimera bounding after the laughing children when they came too near to the former kunoichi. She kept silent, another invisible monster to be afraid of without knowing it.

The solferino silk covering her body was littered with little gridelin butterflies so pale they looked almost white. The kimono was only half on. The skirt was picked up on her left side, revealing her bare leg as the right side of the top was slumped down around the silver obi, revealing the midnight violet undershirt and her bare arm. Hinata, who had seen her leave the house, had bemoaned the sloppy way the pinkette had dressed.

Eyes like new leaves watched the little chimera yawn, his actions reminiscent of a cat's. Idly, she reached behind her to finger the kanzashi she had used to pull back her unusual hair. The wood felt cold, the glass beads at the end even colder.

They were the only things from the past that she was willing to wear. The kimono had belonged to her great-great-grandmother, Shiori, and the kanzashi to her great-grandmother Shinju. They were far enough in the Haruno past that Sakura was unafraid of them. Something of Nozomi's would bring up too many memories, and anything of Asuko's ran the risk of being recognized. Shinju and Shiori both predated Konoha to some degree.

_You seem happy to have found something other than the Ending Kimonos and me that were left to you._

Hanabusa's ancient voice was becoming more and more familiar to her. It would occasionally rumble through her whole body, and he had grown more talkative since Hanabi discovered the trunks in the attic. Each had a number, a name, and an animal. Every generation Hanabusa had claimed was kept in those trunks as memories stored in their clothing and personal effects.

She hadn't been able to bring herself to open her mother's or her grandmother's, but Shinju and Shiori had been safe ground for her. She spent all of the night before digging through the memories of the early days of Konoha, amazed at all she found. Without a second glance, she had taken the two trunks down to her room to be looked through and cared for.

The Hyuuga sisters finally retreated from her house, leaving her alone under the crushing silence of Hanabusa. Hanabi had been more than happy to escape, but Hinata had only reluctantly left. Something about the indigette seemed to catch onto the fact that Sakura needed someone.

"Yo."

She stiffened, feeling her muscles contract painfully in her back. Virid eyes stayed on the hustle and bustle of the street beyond her, "Hatake-san, what brings you out so early?"

She could feel him leaning against the wall behind her, the warmth of his body just barely reaching her. Hanabusa hissed, throwing a contemptuous look at the shinobi before weaving his way between their legs.

"Just thought I'd check on my students," he responded softly, "That's not a crime, is it?"

"I'm not your student, Hatake-san."

Neither one moved. Sakura was almost afraid of what his reaction would be. She wasn't certain as to whether or not Tsunade had seen to informing Team Seven to Sakura's retirement, and if she had, just how much information had been given as explanation.

_He knows more than you think, Saku-chan._

She bristled, despising the name Hanabusa had taken to using for her. She would have reacted, but the air behind her changed, warming as the man behind her moved closer.

"Just because you're not my student doesn't mean you have to stop calling me by my name, Sakura."

Something in her broke. Naruto and Sasuke were her boys. She'd do anything to protect her little patchwork family, but the fourth member was always different. As much as she loved all the members of her team, something about Hatake Kakashi made her feel small and weak. It wasn't a negative reaction, though, not pitiful as the frail princess in the books Ino loved. It was almost as if a light were wrapping around her, protecting her and allowing her to hold onto her innocence.

Her lips tugged up in a smirk. Innocence was not something she had anymore. Ivy eyes burned with the flood of tears building with the storm inside her head. Something warm touched the skin of her arm, searing the flesh as if blood had suddenly remembered to flow to that area. Sakura was pulled around, deeper into the shadows of the alley until she was left facing a masked face where no one could see.

"Kakashi," she managed, her voice tired and broken as an ancient clock struggling to tick.

"How long?" he cut her off, "How long has this been going on, Sakura?"

She mumbled something about not understanding, her face turned away from him. She felt his sigh more than she heard it, just as she felt his hand on her chin, forcing her to see the sooty depths of his one visible eye, "What do you want, Kakashi?"

The mask moved as he frowned, "I want to know why Hyuuga Hinata showed up on my doorstep telling me that she was worried about you."

"Hinata," she murmured, her eyes widening. When everything clicked into place, she let her eyes close as a laugh bubbled up through her throat, "I never imagined she'd go to you, but I suppose it makes sense. Naruto's not in the village and she's always been afraid of Sasuke, so you were the only choice."

His other hand slammed against the wall next to her head, eliciting a flinch from the ex-medic. Slowly she realized that it was likely as close as she would ever get to seeing the Copy-Nin truly blindsided.

_I wonder what that girl told him. _

While Kakashi's attention was focused on finding the words to give to her, Sakura threw a glare at Hanabusa, only slightly appeased when the chimera shrugged as he faded away.

"You were never my student," his voice, too soft and too scared for her to be comfortable, reached her ears, turning her attention back to the shinobi before her. He wasn't looking at her, his eye trained on the ground and his back slumped to where he was almost her height. The hand that had been on her chin had found the wall beside her other shoulder, leaving her trapped as he continued speaking, "When they gave me the three of you to train, all I could think was why you were there. I had two little monsters in Sasuke and Naruto, but you were the one I couldn't understand."

There was something despondent in his actions, and for the first time, Sakura realized just how young he really was. If she remembered correctly, then Kakashi would only be about thirty, perhaps a bit older. Though that was considered old age by most shinobi, it was still too young. For humans who naturally lived to be in their eighties and older, thirty was still so young.

Guilt clawed at her lungs, pulling the air away from her and intensifying the feeling of crying. How much had he gone through in such a short life? She knew about his father, his genin team, and her own team. She hadn't wanted to add any pressure to anyone, so she had done her best to cover up Hanabusa's influence in her everyday life.

That had been the right choice, hadn't it?

"What did I tell you? If nothing else at least tell me that you remember what it means to be a part of a team," he had finally looked at her, and she saw in his eye the expression of someone who had grown up far too fast, who had seen more tragedy than any mortal should, "Sakura, how long has this been happening?"

She shrugged, forcing herself to look away. She wrapped her arms around herself, if only for the imaginary protection it may have provided, "I'm the eleventh generation to be affected. From what I can tell, it starts at birth, or maybe after the fall of the previous generation. I really don't know how it works."

"Is it genetic?"

"No. Yes. Maybe. I don't really know why the Haruno were targeted."

He sighed again, straightening his back and stepping a little closer to her. Something at the back of her mind, perhaps a remnant of Inner Sakura, screamed that she really should move. Her kimono was only half on, and standing in such a position with a man in the shadows of an alley was more incriminating than she normally would have allowed. She felt him move a little before his voice, a sound that reminded her of a river carrying rocks in the aftermath of a flood, filled the air once more.

"Why didn't you come to me?" he asked, letting her keep her eyes on the sleeve of his shirt rather than on his face, "I know I've never been that supportive of you, but surely you knew I'd help you in any way I could. I may never have been your sensei, but at least I counted as a friend."

A jolt raced down her spine, viridian eyes widening once more as tears finally began to fall, burning her cheeks and eyes alike. She looked up to face him with his name on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it when she saw what his last movement had been.

He had removed the mask.

The infamous mask that never moved, the one she had the others had always tried to get him to remove. Why was he taking it off for her?

Of course, she realized. He was trying to show that he trusted her, and that he wanted her to trust him.

But why? If Hinata had gone to him, then surely he knew why she had been forced into retirement. Why would he want the trust of someone who could very easily become his killer? Why would he trust someone like that to begin with?

The tears were coming faster, an almost constant stream of emotions she couldn't even begin to identify.

"Sakura, I want to help you, but I can't do that unless you talk to me."

"What if I can't be helped?" she answered so softly she was sure anyone else would have missed it.

As her reply sunk in, she saw the real reason Hatake Kakashi wore the mask. The man couldn't control his expressions. Even though the changes were almost invisible, any shinobi would be able to read him with more ease than one could read a picture book. To a trained eye, his face—_quite handsome_, a voice that may have been Hanabusa's whispered at the back of her mind, _quite handsome indeed_—was painfully expressive.

Hadn't she been like that in her youth, before she learned to lie and kill?

Her chest constricted, her muscles twitching as she suppressed a sob, choking while she swallowed it and holding a hand over her mouth to stop it from coming back up. She imagined that if she were a tree, then she had just been struck by lightning, the cracks forming from her roots to the tips of her branches, burning and tearing her apart.

He brushed a thumb across her cheek, sweeping away the tears in vain and reclaiming her attention, "You know, when they gave me the three of you, and I realized that Naruto and Sasuke were little monsters. I really was concerned that Sarutobi had given me you too. I think he may have known, though. I probably should have as well. I knew the boys were in my care because I was just as much a monster as they were, but I should have known that there was a reason for you to be there too. Your demons are worse than ours, and we should have been there for you more. _I_ should have been there more. I am sorry that I've been absent, but truth be told, I was afraid."

Her arms fell to her sides, branches felled by the storm, "You were afraid of me?"

He smiled and she thought the expression was so displaced, so twisted with the defeated look in his eye and the innocent halo forming around his head with the reflection of the minuscule sunlight in his hair, "You were the one I couldn't understand. That's frightening to a degree. This is frightening right now. I make a point of keeping my guard up, but you have this amazing ability to tear any wall you want down. And I know that I can't get you to tell me anything if I don't show you that I really do care."

"Kakashi, please," she tried, but he cut her off.

"Even if you can't be helped, at least let me try."

The tree fell. The sob she had choked back came back with a fury, ravaging her small frame and leaving her with more tears than she knew what to do with. Without thinking, she threw her small arms around him, burying her head in his shoulder.

He meant what he said, apparently, as she felt his arms come up and hold her tighter than she could ever remember being held.

_This _was why she had always avoided him. There was something about Kakashi that didn't just make her feel small and secure, it made her want to cry and tell him everything. She had never understood it, but over the years, it was an impulse that had grown stronger.

"Just let me stay like this awhile," she finally whispered. His only response was to hold her a little closer as her own hold him tightened. She thought it may have been her heart, but something in her gave a sigh of relief. Sometimes she just needed to be held, and it was nice to know that there was someone who would. When it was over, she swore to herself that she would tell him everything.

He deserved that much.

* * *

A/N

So I thought I wouldn't write that much with Naruto since I lost everything (like the outline) regarding most of this story, but I got bored so I reread _Forever_ and I also reread all of the reviews. I had to write this. One interesting point is that Kakashi originally had a very small role in this story, but he kind of took over this chapter, so I'll be changing a few things with the new version of the outline. It also looks like there might be some hints of KakaSaku. Did not plan that. Oh well.

On my writing: AP seriously screwed up my style. I'm taking a poetry class, and so far have managed a couple of pieces in my old style, so I'm slowly getting back to where I used to be.

Also, expect more updates to this and a few to Snow. I've just restarted these two, so we'll have to see how long the inspiration sticks around this time.

Disclaimer: Me no own. Also, this is unbeta'd. Sorry for any mistakes.

Glossary:

Solferino: purplish red

Gridelin: violet-grey

_Kakashi's pride had to be put aside for this chapter. Please help it recover by leaving a review. _

_Hikari Adams_


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